The True Heart
by steel-trap
Summary: Shortly after the end of the war, Mai severs her ties and escapes her affluent life the Fire Nation. She spends four years in search of adventure, adulthood, and (most importantly) herself. When she reluctantly returns, she is a new woman. But some things never change... Zuko/Mai. ABANDONED.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, dear readers! This is the first chapter of the first fanfic I have penned in a very, very long time. The idea popped into my head a few weeks ago and refused to leave me alone. Woo! I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. The title is borrowed from the lion turtle's speech in Episode 19 of Book Three.**

**A few quick notes: (1) this story disregards the Promise Trilogy comic books. Why? Because I've never read them!; (2) this story is rated M for language and later sexual content, but the latter will be no more 'graphic' than what is shown on HBO; and (3) I work and go to school, so updates will probably be sporadic.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender. But it would be pretty cool if I did, huh?**

**EDIT 2/7/13: Went back and made things a bit less ambiguous! No major changes!**

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The sun was slowly sinking beneath the Outer Wall of Ba Sing Se, and my twelve-hour shift at the Jasmine Dragon was finally coming to an end. I moved sedately between the shop's delicate tables, clearing away used teacups and utensils and offering refills to the few remaining customers; several—mostly the old men, the _regulars_—winked at me as I passed by and pressed a few copper coins into my palm. I smiled, and thanked them quietly as I pocketed the coins. Living in Ba Sing Se on a waitress's salary was next to impossible; thanks to these few copper pieces, I could afford to eat tonight.

"More oolong, sir?" I asked a tiny wizened man sitting alone at a corner table. He was engrossed in reading a thick scroll; a forgotten, half-eaten pastry and the dregs of his last cup of tea sat before him. The man started at the sound of my voice, but nodded vigorously after a short moment of recovery.

"Yes, please, my dear. Thank you."

I smiled, refilling the old man's teacup. "Can I get you anything else?"

He reached into the pocket of his robes and produced a silver coin. "You can get this," he said, handing me the coin, "into your pocket. You have been most attentive."

Perhaps I would be able to afford breakfast too.

If, years ago, I had been told that I would one day be struggling for existence in the Earth Kingdom's capital, I would have laughed until I cried; the very idea of a Fire Nation noblewoman having to _provide for herself_ would have been ludicrous! But here I was, serving tea and pastries and barely scraping together enough money to pay for the scruffy little flat I had rented in the Lower Ring. And this situation was downright _glamorous_ compared to some of the others I had found myself in: I had worked on farms, in mines, and at shipyards; I had poured drinks at more rowdy roadside inns than I could remember; and I had slept in barns, and under bridges, and on the cold forest floor. I had traded my life of luxury and abundance in for a life of just enough to survive. And the most ludicrous part of it all: I was happy.

When I was younger, "happy" was the last word anyone would have associated with my name. "Sullen" had usually been a person's first choice, or "gloomy"; I'd even heard "emotionless" once or twice. And I would never be able to forget the time a certain Fire Nation prince had referred to me as "blah." But I was no longer that girl. How could I be, now that I had seen so much of the world and its wonders? now that I knew that the mere fact that I was alive was cause enough for joy? If I had learned anything since leaving the Fire Nation, it was that time changes everything. Time had altered me from the spoiled, vain, unfeeling child I had once been into a kind, strong, passionate woman. Time had _transformed _me. I sometimes wondered what my loved ones would think of me now, if they were here to see me with a smile—a _real_ smile, one that actually reached my eyes—on my face; I doubted that any of them would be able to keep their composure.

I was loading the dirty dishes from an abandoned table onto a tray when Iroh, my employer and my friend, emerged from the teashop's small kitchen. A few customers peeked up curiously at the Dragon of the West. One smiled at him. Iroh scanned the room, nodding at each guest in turn, before his eyes landed upon me.

"Ah, lovely Mai," Iroh said, beginning to saunter toward me; his elegant robes swished cheerfully against the wooden floor. "It warms my heart to see you working so hard."

"It shouldn't, Uncle," I teased. "I _always_ work hard."

I had been waitressing for Iroh for six months now, and I had grown to love the old man like I would love a grandfather. I had known Iroh in my youth, certainly, but I had never bothered to truly appreciate him until he had found me, slumped and starving, on the Jasmine Dragon's doorstep after months of poor nutrition and hard travelling. He had sheltered me until I had been able to afford my own flat, and he had nursed me back to health with his stories and his good humor, as well as his food. He had even given me a job when I'd grown strong enough to work. I owed my life to him, but he was fond of telling me that all I owed him were kind words and daily smiles.

Iroh chuckled. "You do indeed. Please, sit down. I have some news that may interest you."

I sank dutifully into a chair, and my aching feet practically sang with gratitude. I closed my eyes, taking a moment to wriggle my toes and roll my shoulders; aside from payment, there was no greater reward for a job well done than being able to relax once I had finished it.

Iroh cleared his throat. "I received a letter from my nephew today."

I felt as though a rock had dropped heavily into my stomach. My eyes shot open and I choked out, "What?"

Again, Iroh chuckled. "Do not look so alarmed. True to my word, I have not informed Zuko of your presence here."

On the very day that Iroh had rescued me from his doorstep, I had made him promise to keep the fact that I was in Ba Sing Se a secret from everyone I had left behind in the Fire Nation, most notably Zuko, Iroh's nephew and my ex-boyfriend. I had not wanted (and still didn't want) to be _rescued_.

I nodded ashamedly; deep down, I knew that Iroh would never break his promise. "Thank you, Uncle. What did the letter say?"

"Oh, a great many things." Iroh finally sat down, in the chair across the table from my own, and rested his hands upon the tabletop. "Few of them significant. Zuko's letters tend to be a bit…rambling."

I smiled halfheartedly.

"But," Iroh continued, "he did mention you,"

A second rock, this one bigger than the first, dropped into my stomach. "What did he say?"

Iroh's face took on a strange expression, a combination of glee and sadness. "He misses you."

I closed my eyes and allowed Iroh's words to wash over me again and again: _He misses you…He misses you…He misses you._ Unbidden, an image of Zuko's face crept into my memory: his amber eyes wide with hurt; his jaw set and his mouth scowling. This had been Zuko's face when I had told him that I was leaving the Fire Nation—when I had abandoned him nearly four years ago. I folded my arms over my chest in order to hold myself together; the feeling of guilt was cracking me into pieces.

"He shouldn't," I whispered, opening my eyes but refusing to look at Iroh. "He should have moved on a long time ago."

Iroh sighed. "Do not be hypocritical. There is no doubt in my mind that you still care for Zuko."

"So?" I barked, causing several customers to look up in alarm. I blushed, and lowered my voice, before continuing: "I've told you this a thousand times, Uncle: How I feel doesn't matter. Zuko is the Fire Lord. He has responsibilities to his country, one of which is _producing_ _heirs_. He needs to marry some meek little noblewoman, get her pregnant, and get on with his life…"

"Oh, Mai." Iroh's voice was quiet. "Is that really what you want?"

I stared intently at the polished tabletop. "I want Zuko to be happy. And for that to happen, he has to stop waiting for me to come back."

Iroh and I were quiet for a long time. The Jasmine Dragon's last few customers were beginning to depart, and I couldn't blame them; the atmosphere inside the shop had shifted drastically as soon as Iroh had sat me down and mentioned Zuko's name. I picked at my short fingernails, attempting to ignore the lump that was slowly forming in my throat; I wanted to show Iroh that I was strong, and it would not do to dissolve into a puddle of tears.

"Mai," Iroh finally said, "You have been traveling for more than three years. You have had countless adventures and you have learned many lessons. But now, I think it is time for you to return home."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Mai, that—"

"It isn't my home anymore!" I cried, causing the last lingering customer to scurry out the door. "I don't belong there! I'm not like all of those noble _snobs_ that I grew up with! I don't want a big, stupid house in the Caldera or a fucking _reputation_—I don't care about any of that now! I want freedom! I want to be able to live _my_ life on _my _terms! And I can't do that in the Fire Nation, Uncle! I can't!"

Iroh sighed, and tried a different approach: "Don't you miss your family?"

"Of course I do," I ground out; my hands balled into fists in my lap. "Every day of my life. But if my parents could see the person I've become, they wouldn't want me back; I'm everything they trained me _not_ to be."

"Mai, look at me," Iroh ordered. Hesitantly, I did, and he held my gaze for a long moment before speaking: "You are _perfect_. You are kind, and intelligent, and strong, and you are living proof that people can change for the better. Do you think that because you are no longer the dispassionate girl that your parents remember that they will not love you?"

I lowered my eyes and said nothing.

"Your parents miss you," Iroh assured me. "They may not be pleased with your new disposition, but they miss you, and they will love you until their dying days."

"How do you know?" I whispered.

Iroh smiled sadly. "I was a parent once."

Silently, I traced the wood grain of the tabletop with my fingertips. My thoughts drifted back in time, back to the weekends my family and I had spent vacationing on Ember Island during my childhood. I remembered my mother's gentle, smiling face and my father's gruff laugh and the richly colored tapestries that had adorned the walls of the many different beach houses that we had rented. I remembered the sound of my own shrill giggles as my father had chased me through the sand, and I remembered the wonderment I had felt when my mother had reached into a tidal pool and yanked out a big purple sea star, and had allowed me to stroke the creature's rough skin. I remembered the way my parents had looked at me while I had built a haphazard sand palace, their eyes so full of adoration…

The lump in my throat seemed to double in size, and the backs of my eyes began to prickle. Inwardly, I cursed Iroh for reopening the wounds that I had been stitching so diligently closed.

"Mai," Iroh said, his voice low and gentle. He reached across the table and lifted my chin up with a finger, repeating, "It is time."

I shook my head. "I can't."

"You can." Iroh tapped my chin with his knuckles before pulling his hand away. "I know what you fear, but returning to the Fire Nation does not mean returning to your old habits. We are each in charge of our own destinies, my dear."

A tear escaped from my eye as soon as Iroh had finished speaking, and I swatted it away angrily; Iroh knew exactly what to say in order to get under my skin. For a long time I sat motionless, glaring daggers at the old man and wishing that he had never mentioned Zuko's stupid letter. But the blazing look on Iroh's face eventually caused me to melt. Sighing, I sank deeply into my chair and crossed my arms over my chest.

"You won't leave me along about this until I agree to go back, huh?" It was more of a statement than a question, and my voice was flat.

Iroh's serious demeanor evaporated, and he grinned widely. "That is correct."

"That's cruel."

"Yes," Iroh chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "But also effective."

I rolled my eyes.

The sun had set completely by now, and stars were beginning to appear in the small stretch of sky visible through the Jasmine Dragon's open doorway. I stared at those stars as I mulled over Iroh's words, wondering what good—and bad—would come of a short visit to the Fire Nation. I could not deny that I missed my birth country—the islands were beautiful to behold, dotted with palm trees and volcanoes and forever smelling of spice and smoke—but I was reluctant to leave the Earth Kingdom; the journey from Ba Sing Se to Capital City would take nearly a month, and I would have to abandon the tiny flat that I was proud of and worked so hard for. The thought of embracing my parents and younger brother was almost unbearably sweet, but the thought of the neighbors' reactions to my homecoming was enough to spoil the idea. And Iroh was right—I _did_ still care for Zuko. But what did that matter anymore? I had no intention of marching into the Palace and asking Zuko to take me back; no interest in spending the rest of my days as the Fire Lady. Seeing him again, however, at least for long enough to tell him that I was sorry for the way I had ended things between us, was a tempting idea.

At long last, I looked back at Iroh. "Make me a promise."

"Anything, my dear."

"When this whole fiasco takes a turn for the worst—and, trust me, it will—you will welcome me back to Ba Sing Se with open arms, and you will never mention my family, or Zuko, or anything even _slightly_ related to the Fire Nation ever again."

"I promise," Iroh said without hesitation. He then clapped his hands together and grinned gleefully. "This is wonderful!"

I rose from my chair, feeling anything but wonderful, and picked up the teacup-laden tray I had been toting around earlier. Sarcastically, I asked, "Shall I submit my two-week notice in writing?"

"That won't be necessary," Iroh chuckled, reaching into the pocket of his robes. He pulled forth two jade-colored tickets and waved them in front of my face. "Our caravan to the West Lake departs tomorrow."

"TOMORROW?" I cried, my voice unusually shrill. "Uncle, I need more time than that! I need to pack and talk to my landlord—and what do you mean 'our' caravan?"

Iroh smiled. "You did not think that I would send you off alone, did you?"

For a moment, I stood there dumbstruck. And then, suddenly, twin waterfalls were spilling from my tear ducts. I tossed my tray of teacups onto the nearest table and threw my arms around Iroh's neck, chanting watery words of gratitude. Iroh's kindness knew no bounds.

"Run along now, Mai, and pack your things," Iroh ordered, when my tears had finally subsided. He gave me a few gentle pats on the back as he led me across the shop to the open front doors. "Do not worry, I will finish up the cleaning. Meet me back here at dawn."

I nodded as I stepped out the door and onto the veranda. "Yes, Uncle."

Iroh smiled. "Goodnight, my dear."

"Goodnight."

Iroh closed the doors of the shop behind me, plunging me into semi-darkness. My eyes quickly adjusted to the dim moonlight, and I stood upon the veranda looking out across the urban sprawl of Ba Sing Se. A soft breeze rustled my green and yellow robes and tugged at the paper lanterns hung upon the eaves of every nearby structure and brought with it the smell of fried noodles and street garbage and cherry blossoms—the distinctive smell of the city that I had grown to love. I did not want to leave this place; I had finally built a life for myself, _by_ myself, and part of me was digging its heels into the dirt and demanding that I stay put. But another part of me, a deeper part, was leaning longingly toward the western horizon—toward my family and Zuko and the country that I would always refer to as _home_. In the end, it was the latter part that forced me to descend the steps that linked the veranda to the street below and begin my long walk back to the Lower Ring.

I reached my humble flat just before midnight, and it took me only minutes to stuff my clothes and a few personal items into the old rucksack that had served me well during my travels. The rest of my things—the clay cooking pots and the linen coverings on my lumpy straw mattress—I left in place. I would not need them. I then scrawled a quick note to my landlord and placed it upon the table beneath a meager handful of gold coins. When I was finished I curled into a ball on my mattress and tried to fall asleep, but it was impossible; my mind was too full. And so I stood, padded across the floor, and opened my flat's one window. For the rest of the night I sat upon the windowsill with my legs dangling over the edge, thinking and thinking and thinking again about this next journey of mine.

An hour before dawn I slung my rucksack over my shoulder and walked out the door of my flat. I did not lock it behind me.

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**Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**An apology is in order: I am so sorry for the long and somewhat unplanned hiatus. I'm a college student, and this past quarter was a freaking nightmare. But I got good grades, so all is well, right?**

**If anyone reads the updates that I occasionally post on my profile, you already know this, but here is some VERY IMPORTANT INFORMATION for any non-profile-readers/newcomers: this is the second version of chapter 2. I was not at all happy with the way the original chapters 2 and 3 turned out, and I knew that I would not be able to continue writing this story unless I tweaked a few things and fixed my abysmal writing. So, here it is: a newer, snazzier chapter 2! Thanks for understanding :)**

**And just a quick note: I'm trying to be as accurate as I can in terms of describing the ATLA world, but I'm also trying to be realistic. It may seem odd that Mai's journey back to the Fire Nation takes as long as it does, but not everyone has a superfast flying bison…**

**Read on :)**

**Edit 1/21/2013: Went back and fixed a few grammatical/formatting issues. Nothing major!**

* * *

_Seated in his study, dressed in rich robes with his Fire Crown nestled atop his head, Zuko is the embodiment of nobility. He is leafing through the pages of a thick book, looking quite at ease despite the stress he has lately been under; his feet are propped up upon the ornate desk in front of him. The sight of him like this—absentminded, restful—makes me want to close the door that I have just edged open and leave him in peace—to steal away like a thief in the night and let him find out what has become of me from someone, _anyone_, else. But then he looks up. Our eyes meet. And I know that the words must come from my own lips, here and now. But I am so afraid of hurting him._

_Zuko smiles. "Mai."_

_He places his book upon the desk, stands, stretches, and makes his way across the room to where I am waiting. He wraps one of his arms around my waist, threads the fingers of his free hand through my inky hair, and kisses me softly. Pain rips through my chest, and I whimper, but Zuko mistakes my small sound for one of pleasure and backs me up against the door, kissing me a bit more fervently. I want to push him away, to save him as much anguish as I possibly can, but I am selfish and I know that this may very well be the last time I feel his lips against mine and I just _can't_. I kiss him back, holding his cheek and dragging the pad of my thumb over his scar and trying to tell him without words that I love him and that I'm so sorry, sorry, sorry._

_Finally he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. Laughing huskily, he says, "You're…_affectionate_ today."_

_I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut. "Zuko?"_

"_Mm?"_

"_We need to talk."_

_Zuko takes a step back, still holding onto my waist, and raises the eyebrow above his good eye. "About what?"_

_I disentangle myself from his arms and move away from him, toward the wall of books and scrolls to my left. I trail my pale white fingertips over the spines of a dozen ponderous tomes and sigh deeply. Perhaps this is how Zuko felt before he left me to join the Avatar; there is no easy way to hurt someone you care about._

"_When I was a little girl, I wanted to be an anthropologist," I say quietly, with no hint of a smile. "Have I ever told you that?"_

"_No. Mai, what d—"_

"_I wanted to study at Fire Nation University and spend the rest of my life learning about people. I never hated the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes; they fascinated me. But when I told my parents that, they shut me down. 'Noblewomen don't become anthropologists,' my dad told me. And my mother got so angry… She told me that my 'sympathy toward heathens' could endanger dad's political career. After that, I never brought it up again."_

_I pause, turning to face Zuko. He is standing several paces away; his expression is equal parts interested and confused._

"_My life has never been mine," I continue in a bitter voice. "My parents and my _status_"—I spit the last word out as if it tastes foul—"have always made my choices for me. And because of that I have no personality of my own, no real skills, nothing to be proud of… I really _am_ just a 'big blah'."_

_Zuko shakes his head. "That isn't true."_

"_It is," I mutter. And then, not because I want to but because I must, I quietly say what I came here to say: "I can't stay here anymore."_

_There is a moment of stillness, and then the temperature of the room increases exponentially as Zuko's heart begins to race; I sometimes forget how powerful of a Firebender he is. His good eye is wide, and in this moment he looks blindsided and vulnerable and _seventeen_; I sometimes forget how young he is—how young we both are—too._

"_You're leaving?" he finally asks in a small voice._

_I nod._

"_Where will you go?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_How long will you be gone?"_

"_I don't know."_

_Zuko is shaking his head now, disbelieving. "No… No, this is crazy, Mai. You can't just—"_

"_Don't tell me what I can't do," I snap, shooting him an icy glare. But then I guiltily soften my features because I have no right to be angry; it is not _my_ heart on the line today. I sigh, and add, "I have to go. I _have_ to. I'm not happy here…"_

_Zuko's eyes narrow at my words; the temperature around us rises even higher. "I don't make you happy?"_

"_Of course you do," I sooth. "You make me happier than anyone else does. But…"_

"_But?" Zuko prompts, his voice hard._

"_But even our _relationship_ is out of my control now!" I cry. "Did you know that your advisors are already planning our wedding? That they're already training me how to be the Fire Lady? That a woman came over to measure my_ hips_ last week? They're expecting us to be married soon, Zuko, and they're expecting _me_ to get pregnant as soon as we are!"_

_Zuko says nothing, but his good eye widens almost imperceptibly; my words—and my brief loss of control—have surprised him._

"_I'm sixteen," I say softly. I cross my arms over my chest and look down at the floor. "I'm not ready for this, and I'm so fucking sick of everyone _expecting_ me to be…"_

_A moment passes, and then Zuko sighs. He begins to slowly pace the floor of his study. He says, "You're leaving."_

"_Yes."_

"_And I can't change your mind."_

"_No."_

_He stills. When he looks at me his gaze is full of hurt and his jaw is set and his mouth is scowling, and I know that this image of him will be burned into my mind forever. He hesitates before he whispers, "Go, then."_

"_Zuko, I—"_

"_GO!"_

* * *

I woke with a start, thrashing left and right beneath my blankets as I clawed my way out of yet another vision of the past and back into my steel-walled cabin. My breaths were coming in short, shallow gasps. I needed air. Scrambling out of bed, I crossed my cabin in two strides and stumbled out into the deserted hallway of the Fire Nation freighter, not caring that I was only wearing my nightgown and that I'd forgotten my boots, concerned only with reaching the door at the end of the hallway that opened up onto the deck. Finally, when I'd emerged into the dawn light and filled my lungs with salty sea air, I managed to relax.

That stupid dream! I scowled in frustration as I padded across the deck toward the ship's stern. Iroh and I had been traveling for three weeks now—one week overland between Ba Sing Se and the West Lake, and two weeks aboard this freighter whose captain had been "honored" to have the Dragon of the West as a passenger—and that same dream had been haunting me each night since the very first day of our journey. I was exhausted; the purple smudges beneath my eyes were growing darker every day. Apparently it wasn't enough that I was terrified of returning to the Fire Nation—I had to be afraid of sleeping too! I reached the stern and leaned against the railing, heaving a deep sigh as I stared out across the water; the dream was over, but Zuko was still on my mind. What would it be like, I wondered, to see him again after all these years? There was no way of telling, but I hoped that it would be a happy occasion. However, Zuko had every reason to be angry with me; if he wanted to shout at me while shooting fireballs out of his hands, I would understand. I knew that I would endure anything in order to tell him how sorry I was for hurting him. I needed his forgiveness. And I needed these dreams to _stop_; I was sick of waking up in a cold sweat with my heart racing. I needed to set things right.

But what then? What came after setting things right? Would Zuko and I shake hands and part ways? We had no future together—I knew that, and I hoped that I could make him see that too. But the thought of leaving him again, even on good terms, just seemed…_wrong_. What if—

"No." I spoke the word aloud, shaking my head. This was no time for "what ifs"; I had a plan and I was going to stick to it. No matter what.

I remained on deck for some time, soaking up the early morning sunlight and allowing the crisp ocean air to chase away the last vestiges of my bad dream. When the freighter's crew began to appear on deck, I took it as my cue to return to my cabin and dress for the day; I was still wearing my rather short nightgown, and I knew that the sight of a woman's bare legs could turn even the most respectable men into salivating komodo-rhinos—my time as a barmaid at a seedy Earth Kingdom tavern had taught me that. Below deck, I pulled on a pair of rough cotton leggings, a threadbare tunic, and my shabby leather boots. I then tied my shoulder-length hair into a knot at the nape of my neck and returned to the deck, intending to ask the nearest crewmember if there was any work for me to do; I had grown restless two days out to sea, and had been picking up slack around the ship ever since. Before I could be assigned a chore, however, Iroh appeared at my side and asked me to join him for breakfast. Reluctantly, I left the sunlight and followed the old man to the galley.

"Trouble sleeping, my dear?" Iroh asked, as we accepted plates of what may or may not have been food from the freighter's cook. "You do not look rested."

"I'm fine," I lied. I would rather fight a platypus-bear off with a stick, I thought, than discuss my dreams with Iroh.

We chose a table in a far corner of the galley and sat down to eat; I cleaned my plate hurriedly, not wanting to taste more of the semi-edible slop than was strictly necessary. Iroh ate more slowly, but his slightly downturned mouth told me his opinion of the fare. When Iroh had finished, he looked up and studied me for a long moment. Finally, he said, "The captain tells me that we will be passing through the Gates of Azulon this afternoon."

This information did not come as a shock to me. The freighter had been skirting the coastlines of the Fire Nation's small, outlying islands for two days now, and I remembered enough from my childhood geography lessons to know our relative location. By my calculations, we were just three days away from Capital City. I simply looked back at Iroh and nodded.

"Am I correct in assuming," Iroh asked, "that you would rather stay at an inn than with your family?"

"You're correct." I was under no false pretenses; my first meeting with my family was sure to be a disaster. It would most likely be a long while before I was welcome in my old home. "I'll find a cheap room in the Harbor Town."

"Do not worry, my dear," Iroh said, grinning. "I have taken the liberty of reserving a room for you at one of my favorite inns."

"Uncle, you've done enough for me. I—"

"_I_ insist," Iroh interrupted. "I am sure that you will enjoy the Yellow Dragon Inn very much."

My heart skipped a beat at Iroh's words. "The Yellow Dragon Inn! Are you crazy?"

The Yellow Dragon Inn was the oldest and the most expensive inn in the Fire Nation; a noble family could gain prestige by spending just one night there.

"Please don't waste your money on me," I begged, once my heart had restarted; the poor organ was really getting a workout today.

"You seem to forget that I am royalty," Iroh chuckled. His eyes were twinkling as he continued, "Again, I insist."

I sighed and nodded, knowing that I had lost yet another battle of wills with the Dragon of the West. But as I sat staring down at my empty plate, I became suddenly suspicious. Why had Iroh reserved me a room at the Yellow Dragon Inn without asking me first? What if I _had_ wanted to stay with my family? The old man was definitely plotting something.

I looked back up at Iroh, narrowed my eyes, and demanded, "What aren't you telling me?"

Again, Iroh chuckled. "Many things, my dear."

I scowled and stood. "I'm going to help the crew. See you at dinner."

Iroh's quiet laughter followed me all the way out of the galley.

* * *

We reached Capital City on a rainy, miserable evening. From the moment that the lights of the Royal Plaza had appeared on the horizon, I had been standing on deck beneath the eaves of the ship's wheelhouse growing progressively more nervous. We were here. This was real. And I was scared. At some point, Iroh came to stand beside me. He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and we watched together as the ship drew ever closer to our home.

The freighter dropped anchor at an unassuming pier on the eastern side of the Plaza. Bags in hand, Iroh and I thanked the captain graciously before leaving the ship on unsteady legs; it had been more than two weeks since we'd last set foot on solid ground. Despite the rain and the late hour, the pier was a flurry of activity; soldiers, merchants, and travelers passed us left and right as we hurried toward the main stretch of the Plaza. There, Iroh and I found a dozen komodo-rhino-drawn carriages and their drivers waiting for passengers. Iroh and I clambered into one, eager to get out of the unusually chilly rain.

The ride though the Harbor Town and up the side of the dormant volcano to the Caldera was long and bumpy. Even so, I spent the entire trip with my face pressed up against the carriage's window, drinking in the familiar sights and sounds of the island on which I had grown up. Even through the rain I could see the myriad of colors that decorated every home and business and public square—reds and oranges and yellows that represented not only fire, but also life. Memories bombarded me. Here was the restaurant that I had frequented with my old friends, Ty Lee and Azula. There was the dressmaker's shop that had made all of my party dresses and ball gowns. I listened and looked and reminisced for the better part of an hour, until the carriage came to a jerky halt in front of the Yellow Dragon Inn.

The place was truly breathtaking to behold. Seven stories high, it was the tallest building on the avenue, and the most vibrantly colored; the walls were painted gold, the trim red, and a magnificent yellow dragon had been lovingly emblazoned above an oaken front door inlaid with onyx and pearl. Guards were stationed on either side of the door; their stances marked them as skilled firebenders. As Iroh and I approached, the guards unlatched the fantastic door and bowed, granting Iroh and I access to the Yellow Dragon Inn.

The inside of the inn was just as incredible as the outside. Iroh and I stepped into a spacious lobby lit by thousands of candles. The walls were painted a rich shade of coppery-orange, and the room was dotted with priceless rugs, ancient tables, and chairs large and soft enough to swallow a person whole. In the middle of the lobby was a pond full of golden koi fish, and in one corner sat a Pai Sho table that appeared to be made entirely of polished black marble. I followed Iroh toward the front desk, my eyes darting around in wonder all the while.

"Welcome to the Yellow Dragon Inn, Master Iroh," the stately woman behind the front desk intoned as we approached. "We've been expecting you."

"Good evening," Iroh replied, smiling. "I trust that everything is in order?"

"Yes, Master Iroh. Your other acquaintance arrived four days ago. She has been quite comfortable here."

Other acquaintance? She? Was this the information that Iroh had been keeping from me aboard the freighter?

"Wonderful," Iroh said. He then motioned to me. "This is Lady Mai."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Mai," the front desk woman said, bowing. "My name is Aila. I am here to assist you in all things."

"Er, thanks," I muttered. "It's just Mai, though…"

Aila smiled. "Come. I will show you to your room."

Iroh and I followed Aila across the lobby, up a flight of beautifully carved wooden stairs, and down a long hallway; every inch of the walls had been painted with mystical landscapes, making the hallway seem far less narrow than it actually was. Aila paused in front of door number twenty-two and handed me an ornate golden key.

"Here is your room, Lady Mai. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask." Aila bowed once more. "I must return to the lobby. Please enjoy your stay."

As Aila walked away, I looked at Iroh and raised an eyebrow. "'Other acquaintance,' huh? Who is she?"

Iroh chuckled. "You will find out soon enough. You will be sharing this room with her."

"Do I know her?"

"Oh, yes."

I was still curious, but I had other questions. "Where will _you_ be staying?" I asked.

"The Palace, of course," Iroh answered. "My nephew and his mother are expecting me."

I smiled at the mention of Zuko's mother, Lady Ursa. She had been found in a small village on Whale Tail Island shortly after I had fled to the Earth Kingdom. From what Iroh had told me, I knew that Zuko's reunion with his mother had been the happiest experience of his short life.

After a moment, I asked Iroh, "How will I contact you?"

"Write a message and leave it with Aila," Iroh said. "She will ensure that I receive it. But do not rush to contact me, my dear. Take your time. Explore. Eat. And _sleep_; you look like you've been awake since we left Ba Sing Se."

I sighed. "Yes, Uncle."

Iroh smiled, and repeated, "Take your time. Visit your family. I know that you are longing to see them. When you are ready to speak to Zuko, send for me. I will accompany you to the Palace."

I nodded, hesitated for a moment, and then wrapped my arms around Iroh's neck.

"Thank you for everything," I whispered into the old man's shoulder. "I know that I've been difficult, but I'm glad you brought me here."

Iroh patted my back and muttered, "You needn't thank me, my dear. It was my pleasure."

I released Iroh and looked down at the golden key in my hand. "Well, I guess it's time to find out who the mystery woman is."

"I shall leave you to it," Iroh said, grinning. "Goodnight, my dear."

"Goodnight, Uncle."

Iroh turned and began to make his way toward the staircase at the end of the hallway. I watched him go. Once he was out of sight I unlocked the door and stepped into room number twenty-two.

The young woman on the sofa in the middle of the room looked up from the book she was reading as I entered. She had long brown hair that was twisted into a dancer's bun on top of her head, and her skin was tan and free of makeup. She wore plain clothing that would not have been out of place in the Earth Kingdom. At first I did not recognize her. But when she stood and began to step toward me, I knew her immediately. The way she walked, those calculated movements…

"Ty Lee," I said. And then I dropped my rucksack and propelled myself into the outstretched arms of my old friend.

My reunion with Ty Lee was long and tearful. We clung to one another like magnets, sobbing unashamedly into each other's shoulders. Aside from Iroh, this young woman was the only familiar person I had seen in nearly four years; I couldn't quite believe that she was real. But her embrace was warm and solid and unrelenting, and I knew that she was really here with me, _truly_ here, and I was overflowing with glee. I thought wildly that I owed Iroh a bag of the best tea money could buy…

"Your _hair_!" Ty Lee exclaimed once our tears had run dry. She reached up to flick my side-swept fringe out of my eyes. "It's so short!"

"It was a hassle," I explained. "What about you? You're not wearing any pink!"

"We have so much to talk about." Giggling, Ty Lee pulled me all the way into the elegantly furnished room and onto one of the two unimaginably soft beds. "Tell me _everything_."

I did. I sat holding Ty Lee's hands and I told her everything. I told her why I'd run away from the Fire Nation. I told her about traveling the world, from the North Pole to the southern Earth Kingdom. I told her about my odd jobs. I told her about how I'd learned to light a fire with two rocks and catch fish with my throwing knives. I told her about crossing the Great Divide. I told her about swimming alone, naked, in Chameleon Bay, and about climbing one of the highest mountains in the Earth Kingdom just to stand at the top and scream as loudly as I could. I told her about waking up in the Si Wong Desert to the most beautiful sunrise I had ever seen. I told her about the kind old woman who had taught me how to identify the constellations, and I told her about the tall, strong earthbender that I had _almost_ given my virginity to. I told her about Iroh, and the teashop, and my little flat in Ba Sing Se. And, of course, I told her why I had decided to come back.

"I wanted to see my family," I explained, "but I _needed_ to talk to Zuko. I need to make him understand that I don't belong here. He and I, we have different plans, different lives to live… He can't keep waiting for me, missing me. He needs to move on, for both of us."

"You still love him," Ty Lee murmured.

I sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"When are you going to see him?"

"In a few days, probably. I want to get my bearings first, see my parents and Tom-Tom… But right now I want to hear about what you've been up to. What's it like, living on Kyoshi Island?"

Ty Lee launched eagerly into an explanation of every facet of her life as a Kyoshi Warrior; she had been living on Kyoshi Island since the end of the war. She spoke highly of the warrior women who were her friends, especially Suki, the auburn-haired girl who was now engaged to the Avatar's friend, Sokka. Ty Lee told me about her whirlwind romance with a boy named Karo; he had wooed her and broken her heart, all within a month. She had dated other young men since then, but nothing had been serious. She told me about teaching chi-blocking lessons, and about how special and talented it made her feel. She told me about receiving the news that one of her sisters had died of an illness, and I held her while she cried. She told me about babysitting the village children, and about how much it made her want babies of her own. And she told me about the day that a messenger hawk had landed on her windowsill and dropped a letter into her outstretched hand.

"It was from Iroh," Ty Lee clarified. "He said that you had been working for him for months, and that he had finally convinced you to come back to the Fire Nation. He must have written to me that day, for me to get the letter so fast! He didn't say why you were coming back, just that you would need a friend. So here I am! I hopped on a trading ship as soon as I was able to!"

"Thank you for coming," I said, squeezing Ty Lee's hands. My throat was feeling a bit tight. "I was never a very good friend to you, but I'm so glad that you're here with me. I don't think that I could have done this alone."

"You were a great friend, Mai." Ty Lee smiled at me. "You were just lost back then. We all were. But look at you now! Spirits, you look so _happy_! I never thought that I'd be able to say that about you!"

I grinned. "I was pretty gloomy back then, wasn't I?"

"The absolute _gloomiest_."

Ty Lee and I giggled until our sides hurt, and then we giggled some more, and by the time my exhaustion finally caught up with me I felt positively buoyant. I planned on visiting my family tomorrow and I knew that the encounter would be difficult, perhaps even painful, but tonight that pain was far away. Tonight I had my friend, a real bed, and some peace of mind. And for the first time in weeks, I fell asleep without fear.

I dreamt of Zuko, of course. But this time, he was smiling.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Again, I'm sorry for the unplanned hiatus! School is hard, man... But Spring Break has started, and I plan to spend a large portion of it writing :)**

**I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. I've been working on it for a long while, writing and rewriting and trying to make it perfect; I'm really proud of a few parts of it! **

**Also, can season 2 of Korra start already?**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

It was the smell of food that woke me late the next morning: mixed Fire Nation fruit; turtle-duck eggs seasoned with red peppers; pastries and jam; and sweet, spiced tea. I opened my eyes to see that all of those edibles had been heaped onto the ornate silver tray—by the Yellow Dragon Inn staff, I figured—that sat upon the low table in front of the sofa. My stomach growled, and I practically strangled myself with my blankets in my haste to get out of bed.

Ty Lee was already awake, I noticed. She was standing at the open window, nursing a cup of the tea and staring out over the rooftops of the Caldera with a peaceful look on her face. The sun was shining. The air drifting in from outside was hot, and humid thanks to last night's driving rain. I filled a small plate with eggs and fruit, grabbed two pastries, and filled a cup with tea. Then I joined my friend at the window.

"'Morning," I mumbled, touching Ty Lee's shoulder softly. I set my plate down on the windowsill and began to sip my tea; it was nothing like Iroh's masterfully brewed stuff, but it would do.

"'Morning," Ty Lee returned, shooting me a radiant smile; she, unlike me, had always been a morning person. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a corpse." I picked up a pastry and bit into it. The taste caused my eyes to roll back in my head. How I had missed Fire Nation food…

Ty Lee had gone back to looking out the window and I followed her gaze, watching the lives of thousands play out on the ground below: merchants being towed to and from work by carriages and rickshaws; groups of gossiping noblewomen with their maids and servants in tow; advisors and other political figures scurrying toward the—my stomach clenched at the sight of it—Palace in the distance; and even whores with wild hair and eyes rimmed with kohl drifting through the foot traffic, attempting to draw solitary men into the more prestigious brothels that dotted the area. I remembered these sights well; in my other life, I had sat in the parlor of my family's house and looked out over the city almost every morning, just like Ty Lee and I were doing now. This Caldera had changed little, I noted. The lives of the noble and other well-to-do citizens went on, whether the Fire Nation was at war or not.

"What are you going to do today?" I asked Ty Lee, beginning to nibble at my turtle-duck eggs.

"Oh, I thought I'd just do some shopping." Ty Lee attempted to sound like the thought of fancy clothes and designer shoes bored her, but I could hear the excitement in her voice. She had offered last night to accompany me to my family's house today, but I had understood that her offer had been nothing more than a courtesy—Ty Lee knew that this was something that I needed to do on my own. But I appreciated her put-out façade, nonetheless.

I smiled. "That'll be nice."

"I suppose." Ty Lee sipped her tea. "Are you nervous? About today, I mean."

"Yes," I admitted, laughing humorlessly. "Very."

"Don't be. Your parents are going to be happy to see you." Ty Lee's voice was reassuring. "Yeah, they'll probably be mad—I know _mine_ were when I ran off—but they've missed you; I'm sure of that. Just…"

"What?"

Ty Lee looked at me, _into_ me. "Just don't let them push you around, okay?"

"Those days are over," I promised. I quickly shoveled the rest of my food into my mouth and then gestured toward the door of the built-in washroom. (_Spirits_, this inn was a mansion compared to my grungy flat in Ba Sing Se; I had shared a communal washroom with _nine families_ there.) "I'm going to take a bath. Help me with my hair and makeup when I'm done?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," my friend chuckled. "Go get clean, street rat. Ty Lee will make you look presentable."

* * *

No one had recognized me. For that, I was grateful. But I was also surprised. Years ago, I had been somewhat…well, _famous_. One does not simply date the Fire Lord and expect to remain anonymous; back then I had traveled everywhere by palanquin or carriage in order to shield myself from nosy, middle-aged noblewoman and young, jealous socialites. Today, however, I walked from the Yellow Dragon Inn to my former residence—an hour's journey—without incident. The anonymity was freeing—and testament to how much my life had changed. These people did not know me anymore. But I doubted that they ever really had.

I stood on the sidewalk in front of my family's home, staring up at the structure as foot traffic passed in front of and behind me. Nothing was different, I noted. The place was as pretentious and unwelcoming as ever, with its shuttered windows and tall privacy wall around the garden. Had I really lived here once? I wondered. It seemed so unlikely that this place had ever been a part of my life. But it had been. I couldn't ignore that. And I couldn't ignore that the people inside were a part of my life, either. So I took a deep breath, let it out, and then bounded up the steps onto the veranda.

I had barely finished rapping my knuckles against the polished front doors when a servant—a young woman of whom I had no recollection—flung them open. She looked me up and down, frowning at the sight of my plain clothes and shabby boots, and asked, "What is your business here?"

I nearly laughed at the girl's serious demeanor; she was sixteen or seventeen, I guessed, but she carried herself like a woman thrice that age. "I'm here to see Master Makoto and Lady Satomi."

"Do you have an appointment?"

This time I did laugh. "No."

"Then I am afraid I must ask you to leave."

The girl moved to slam the doors in my face, but I slapped my hand against the wood and held one of the doors open.

"I'm sure that my _parents_ won't mind me showing up unannounced."

For a long moment, the servant girl did not react. And then realization slowly began to dawn on her face: my hair color, my cheekbones, the shape of my eyes—I was the spitting image of my mother. The girl's eyes were as wide as saucers as she took several jerky steps backward and to the side, granting me entrance to the house in which I had grown up.

Memories crashed into me from all sides as I stepped into the grand foyer. There, on that same carpet by the doorway to the dining room, I had played dolls with Ty Lee and Azula; Azula had ended up setting hers on fire, and Ty Lee and I had laughed at the look on her face. Over there, at the base of the stairs, my mother had taught me how to properly welcome guests as they arrived for dinner parties. My father had chased me down that hallway once in a rare game of tag; I could almost hear my shrill giggles echoing off the walls…

I was so lost in my past that I quite forgot about the servant girl. That is, until she dropped to her knees in front of me.

"Lady Mai, a thousand apologies," she whispered. She sounded close to tears. "Please, _please_ do not tell Lady Satomi, I—"

"I'm not going to get you fired," I said, rolling my eyes; I had forgotten how strict my mother was with the help. "Stand up."

The girl obeyed immediately, wiping her eyes with her sleeve as she rose; I pretended not to notice.

"Master Makoto is attending to an urgent matter at the Palace," the girl informed me in a small voice, her eyes downcast. "And Master Tom-Tom is at school. Lady Satomi is in the garden. Shall I escort you there, Lady Mai?"

"I know the way," I muttered. I left the girl in the foyer, calling over my shoulder, "And stop with the 'Lady Mai' crap."

A moment later, I stepped out the back doors into a garden in full bloom; the panda lilies and orchids and hibiscus' were growing wild, and the carpet of grass and moss had been groomed to perfection. The sound of trickling water could be heard from the fountain in the corner koi pond, and butterflies and bumblebees were everywhere, flitting from flower to tree to vine. And there, right in the middle of this small paradise, was my mother. Her back was to me, and her lightweight gown and hastily knotted hair told me that she was not expecting visitors. She was reclining in a wooden chair, fanning herself and humming a quiet tune. Reluctant to disturb her apparent peace, I simply watched her for a while. But as the minutes dragged on, my anxiety grew. I needed to say something, now, before I lost my nerve. And so I took a deep breath, let it out, and murmured, "Mom?"

Immediately, my mother's fan paused. She snapped it shut and set it down on the grass next to her chair. And then she slowly, _so_ slowly, turned to look at me.

She had aged. That much was obvious. Her hair was going gray at her temples and the wrinkles around her eyes had grown more prominent. I had been gone a long time, I reminded myself. Almost four years. But I couldn't help but wonder if my mother had grown older because of the stress my departure had caused her. Aside from her face, however, not much had changed. When she stood, I saw that she was still tall, thin, and stately. Still Lady Satomi. Still Fire Nation nobility, through and through.

"M-Mai?" she whispered, gripping the back of her chair for support.

"Mom…"

For what seemed like an eternity, my mother stared at me as if she couldn't quite believe that I was real. I stared back, my heart pounding like a war drum inside my chest. What was she thinking? Was she happy? Angry? I wished that she would just _react_. And then she did. She hurried across the grass and—in a move that I had definitely _not _been expecting—threw her arms around me.

"Oh, thank Agni," she whispered into my shoulder. And then she began to cry.

I'll admit it: after so many years, it felt wonderful to be held by my mother. The last time I had allowed her to hug me I had been twelve, and it had been the day Zuko had been burned and banished by his father. Shortly after that, my sullen, "moody" personality had reared its ugly head and I'd wanted nothing to do with physical affection. But now… Now I wrapped my arms around my mother's quaking form and held on for dear life. I had missed her—and my father and Tom-Tom too—more than I had ever realized.

"My d-darling," she finally choked out, pulling back and taking my face in her hands. Her eye makeup was running down her cheeks, leaving black trails on her porcelain skin. "Oh, Mai…"

"I'm here."

Through her tears, my mother smiled. And then—in a move that surprised me less than her embrace had—she slapped me across the face.

"_Do you have any idea how worried we were?_" she screamed, pushing me away from her. "Four years! Four _years_, and you never found the time to write us a letter? We thought you were dead!"

I held my cheek—it was _throbbing_—but kept quiet.

"How could you be so selfish?" she went on. "We never mistreated you! But you felt it necessary to _run away_? _Why?_"

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm _so_ sorry, Mom…"

"Tell me _why_, Mai!"

"I wasn't happy."

"You weren't _happy_?" she cried. "We gave you everything you ever wanted!"

"No." I shook my head. "You gave me everything you _thought_ I wanted. I—"

"Why, you ungrateful—"

"Don't misunderstand me!" I cried quickly. "You and Dad gave me a wonderful life! I _am_ grateful! But it wasn't the life I wanted! I—"

"It was the perfect life!"

"No, it wasn't! Not for me! I wanted to travel! I wanted to _do_ things, to be useful! I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in the Caldera, Mom!"

"Oh, so your father and I, we're not useful? We're _beneath_ you?"

"That's not what I'm trying to say!"

"Good, because it's not true!"

"I know!"

"Fine!"

We lapsed into silence, both of us breathing hard. I gingerly massaged my burning cheek; my mother _looked_ weak, but she certainly had an arm on her. My mother began to pace, her dress swishing angrily around her ankles.

"You've gained weight," she eventually spat. "And your hair—your beautiful hair! It's all gone!"

"Yeah, well…"

"Where have you _been_, anyway?"

"The Earth Kingdom, mostly."

"Mostly?"

"I spent four months with the Northern Water Tribe."

"Spirits, save me," my mother groaned. "A nobleman's daughter living with _peasants_…"

"They were _wonderful_ people," I growled. My mother could insult me all she wanted, but I would not let her defame the foreigners that I had grown to love like family.

"_Peasants_," my mother repeated. "Thank Agni that word hasn't gotten around. This family's reputation took enough of a beating because of your little vanishing act. We were the laughing stock of the Fire Nation for a _year_!"

"Oh, how _dreadful_," I shot back. I didn't want to be mean, but my mother's tone of voice was beginning to affect me. "Reputations are constructed concepts, Mom. They don't mean anything."

"They mean _everything_," my mother barked. "Especially for us! Your father's leadership skills have been under scrutiny since Omashu, Mai! He could have lost his job because of you! And the rumors! People talked! They said vicious, horrible things about you!"

"So?"

My mother sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face. "You just don't understand…"

"No, I don't. Enlighten me."

"You were engaged to the Fire Lord, Mai," she explained, as if I was a particularly stupid child. "There might not have been a ring on your finger, but it was accepted that you and Zuko would be married someday. So when you ran off, your honor was forfeit. Because no one knows where you went or what you did—"

"I don't see how that's anyone's business but mine!"

"—you have been branded as unfaithful, flighty… a whore, even!"

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" I cried. "Since when is it a crime to break up with your boyfriend?"

"Since you were born into this world." My mother sighed again, and her anger seemed to drain out of her. "At least all of that is over now. Zuko has _finally_ started courting again, and…"

A rushing sound filled my ears, and I didn't hear the rest of my mother's sentence. Zuko was courting? Spending time with women? Women who weren't me? Unbidden, flames erupted in the pit of my stomach. It took me only a moment to identify the feeling—jealousy—and half of a heartbeat to become furious with myself. _Jealousy_? I had no business being jealous! I was here to apologize—to end things for good—not to start an old romance over! But the thought of Zuko arm-in-arm with one of the silly little socialites I was so familiar with made me want to stick a knife in something—and I'd had plenty of experience with knives. Who did those women—no, _girls_—think they were? They didn't understand Zuko like I did! They could never love him in the way that he needed to be loved! They—

My frenzied train of thought was suddenly cut off by the sound of thunderous shouting:

"YOUNG LADY, YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!"

My father had joined my mother and I in the garden.

* * *

Mid-afternoon found me sitting alone on the veranda in front of my family's house, staring across the wide avenue at the front gates of the Palace. After a shouting match with my father, which had culminated in a gruff hug and a begrudging, "I'm glad you're all right," I had needed to get away from my parents for a time. And so I had stepped out here in order to massage my still-burning cheek, regain my ability to hear, and attempt to organize my jumbled thoughts.

I was disgusted with myself for being jealous. Hadn't my plan been to convince Zuko to move on? How was I going to do that when all I wanted to do was keep every eligible woman in the Fire Nation away from him? Spirits, what was _wrong_ with me? Why was I suddenly acting so childish—so _stupid_?

I shook my head, sighing deeply. I would deal with my feelings toward Zuko when I was standing in front of him. Right now, I needed to deal with my parents' feelings toward _me_.

So they still loved me. They seemed to, anyway. But they were angry with me, and they had every right to be. I had disappeared from their lives, leaving only a hastily scrawled note full of apologies in my wake, and had not contacted them for almost four years. And I was no longer the sullen, obedient sixteen-year-old that I had been; I was an adult with my own opinions—opinions that differed from my parents' almost completely. On top of that, I had walked back into their lives unannounced—and my parents hated surprises. I was going to have to work hard in order to make them understand why I'd needed to leave the Fire Nation, and that I had not done so with the intention of hurting or embarrassing them. But I _would_ make them understand. I was determined to; because despite their faults, they were my parents and I loved them, and that was one thing that would never, ever change.

I sat there a few minutes longer, debating whether I should go back into the house or simply leave and return tomorrow. The latter option was more appealing. I was emotionally exhausted; I wanted a stiff drink and my bed at the inn, not my father's shouting or my mother's cold shoulder. But before I could make a decision, a child stepped up onto the veranda.

He was a beautiful young boy, with perfect posture and short black hair that was parted down the middle. His eyes were bright, gray and curious, and he was dressed in a school uniform. And I knew without asking who he was: Tom-Tom, my seven-year-old little brother.

He paused a few steps away from me and asked, "Who are you?"

I smiled. "Guess."

"A maid?"

"Nope."

"A cook?"

"Try again."

"I… I don't…"

"Ignore my clothes," I said. "Just look at my face."

Tom-Tom narrowed his eyes, studying me intently. Several long moments passed, and I began to worry that this game was too difficult for him; he was only seven, after all. But then his eyes widened, and I knew that he knew who I was. Just like my mother had, Tom-Tom rushed forward and embraced me. His tone was gleeful when he cried, "Mai! I knew you'd come back!"

I wrapped my arms around my brother and held him close, breathing in the scent of his hair. I never wanted to let him go. From the time he was born to the time I had left, I had been cruel to him. I had envied him and disliked him, for my parents had all but stopped acknowledging my existence the moment he was born. But the way I felt about Tom-Tom had changed along with the rest of my personality. I wanted to make my disgraceful behavior up to him. I wanted to shower him with affection, protect him from harm, and teach him every lesson an older sibling was capable of teaching a younger one. But for now, I was content just to be near him.

"I missed you so much," I told him, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. "Every day, I missed you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well, I missed you too, I guess."

"Oh, please," I joked. "You didn't even know who I was."

Tom-Tom disentangled himself from my arms. "Only because of your clothes!"

"I'm just teasing." I stood and dusted off my backside, and then took my little brother by the hand. "Let's get you a snack, huh? You must be hungry after all that learning."

"I sure am!" Tom-Tom grinned. He began to pull me toward the front doors. "Can I have some lychee juice too?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"You're the _coolest_, Mai."

I smiled. "At least _someone_ thinks so."

* * *

I did not stay for dinner. When my mother caught me sneaking Tom-Tom a handful of cookies from the pantry—in four years, the cooks had not changed their organizational strategy—and proceeded to call me a "bad influence," I knew that I had worn out my welcome for the day. I bid farewell to my disappointed little brother, gave my mother a stiff hug, and simply waved at my father, who was standing in the foyer as I shuffled out the door. I planned on returning tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, until I had fixed what my absence had broken.

It was early evening by the time I returned to the Yellow Dragon Inn. I passed through the front doors and nodded at Aila, the woman at the front desk, as I made my way across the lobby, toward the stairs. When I reached room number twenty-two, I found Ty Lee lounging on her bed with the book she had been reading last night.

"How did it go?" my friend asked, marking her page and tossing her book onto the little table between our beds. "What did they say? Did they—"

I held up my hand, and Ty Lee fell silent.

"Do you want to get a drink?" I asked.

Ty Lee shot me a concerned look. "Mai, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just… Can we talk about it tomorrow? I had a long day and all I want to do is drown my sorrows in sake."

A tense moment passed before Ty Lee, still looking concerned, finally nodded.

We found a relatively inexpensive sake house several blocks away and chose a table near the back of the room. Because it was still early, we had the place almost to ourselves. We ordered our drinks, and I downed two small cups in quick succession. Ty Lee watched me worriedly, but said nothing. And soon, I was pleasantly numb.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Chapter 4 is in the works, and should be posted soon. Perhaps Zuko will finally put in an appearance... ;)**

**Don't forget to review!**


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